Making the Cut

by David Skuy

  Corey came out of the shower.

  “How was the run?” Charlie asked him.

  “Awesome. I tell ya, Charlie, I definitely had a bug at the start of camp.” He stopped short. “Hey, boys. What’s shaking?” He turned back to Charlie. “My dad was right. I had no energy. Now I’m feeling strong again, and can play my game and dominate. I met with Coach Clark.” He pulled on a sweatshirt and sweatpants. “Coach said he’d give me another look for Team 1 on account of my illness. So I really gotta bring it. Dad says I gotta treat every practice like Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals.”

  Corey’s phone rang and he reached over and answered.

  “Yeah, Dad. Capture the flag was good. I didn’t, no. But practice yesterday afternoon was awesome, and Coach Clark …” He went back into the bathroom.

  “I’ve planned things perfectly this morning,” Scott said to Charlie and Nick. “We go downstairs, stuff our faces with breakfast, wait till Jen tells us to hurry up and get ready for practice, then keep stuffing, then Trevor tells us to go, but we keep eating until we’re about to be sick, only that doesn’t stop us, until we finally explode.”

  “I’m surprised you’re not running this camp,” Nick said.

  “No kidding,” Scott replied.

  Corey came back out. “You boys ready for the skills competition?” he asked. He plugged his phone into his charger. They looked back at him quizzically. Corey laughed. “Forgot you boys ain’t veterans like me.”

  Charlie suppressed a groan. Corey reminded him that he’d been invited last year about four times a day.

  “There are three events: shooting, stickhandling and skating. First, each team has its own competition to choose the top three guys in each event. Then the twelve reps for each event meet in the finals. They use a real radar gun for the shooting. No big deal for me since I go to a shooting class every week. I cranked one over 80 miles an hour last time I went, so I’m solid — won it last year, and I’ve gotten way stronger. The best part is the speed race, four guys at a time, two laps. It’s a total riot — tons of contact round the corners, believe me.” He slapped Charlie’s back. “It’ll be a battle royal between us speedsters.”

  “Well, good luck,” Charlie said.

  Corey snorted. “No such thing as luck. My dad says the guys who work the hardest are the luckiest.” Corey pulled on his shoes. “Did you guys hear about Duncan? He got sent down to Team 3. He lost his binder. Second time too. Some people just don’t want it, I guess.” He stood up. “I’ll see you guys at the rink.”

  He crossed the room and was gone.

  “The guy’s like a human tornado,” Scott said, in a bewildered tone.

  “He’s something else,” Charlie said. He put on a sweatshirt. “Weird about Duncan. He’s a Team 2 centre, I think. Losing his binder sounds like something I’d do.”

  “Weirder things have happened,” Scott said.

  “Like the rope at the obstacle course,” Nick said. “That’s still an unsolved mystery.”

  “Not for long,” Scott declared. “I know how we can track down the guy who messed with the rope.”

  “How?” Nick asked excitedly.

  “We just have to find the person who carries invisibility spray. Then we have our culprit.”

  Nick rolled his eyes. “When will I learn?”

  Scott flicked his eyebrows up and down a few times. “It’s gonna take a few more years, Nick. It’s not your fault. You’re just not really very smart.”

  Slogger popped his head around the door. “Time to rock and roll, boys.”

  Charlie followed his friends down the hall to the cafeteria. Obviously he had his doubts about an invisibility spray; besides, he was still sure that Nathan did it, even though lately he didn’t seem to be hanging out with Jake much. Too bad about Duncan. It put him on edge, though. If Duncan got switched for doing that, Charlie Joyce was certainly skating on thin ice, especially after his dustup with Zane.

  Charlie and Slogger were among the last to walk into the dressing room, so most of the guys were already getting dressed. Cries of “Hey, Slogger,” and “Hi, Charlie,” greeted them. Slogger was well-liked, and Charlie had a feeling that’s why they included him. It felt good all the same. He and Slogger took their usual spots next to each other in the corner. He unzipped his bag and pulled out his hockey pants.

  “Yo, Charlie,” Gabriel said. “I forgot. Jen wants to speak to you.”

  The butterflies in his stomach fired up pretty quickly. Not that he should be surprised, just that he’d somehow managed to put it out of his mind. He could kiss the skills competition goodbye, that was for sure. The room quieted as he left. They knew it too. He spotted Jen by the snack bar.

  “Hi, Jen,” he said nervously.

  She raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Mr. Joyce. What can I do for you?”

  That caught him off guard. She’d asked to speak to him. Anyway, best get the apology over with, and then take his punishment. He cleared his throat, stalling for time as he struggled to come up with the right words.

  “I’m … um … I wanted to, like … apologize for … you know … what I said to you on the field yesterday. I … um … maybe I — no, I mean, I did … get angry. But not at you — at the other guys.” He cast his eyes down. “I thought they had … I thought they had …”

  “What did you think?” Jen said gently.

  Her tone startled him. It seemed almost friendly. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her the whole story, however. “I didn’t mean it,” he blurted. “I’m sorry.”

  Jen clasped the clipboard to her chest. “I appreciate that, Charlie. I really do. I understand this camp can be stressful, and I don’t think it’s been easy on you in particular.” She took a deep breath. “There have been some rumours that capture the flag got a bit rough. Do you know anything about that?”

  He shook his head firmly. He solved his own problems; he wasn’t about to squeal on Zane to get back at him.

  Jen unfolded her arms. “Because you looked rather nicked up after the first game?”

  Charlie shook his head again.

  “Okay. No problem. Do you need anything else?”

  Charlie could hardly believe that she was going to let him off the hook. He felt the knot in his stomach disappear. “No, that was it. When Gabriel told me you wanted to speak to me I knew what it was about.”

  A playful smile crossed her face.

  “I never said I wanted to speak to you.”

  He stared at her.

  She smiled again, both eyebrows arched, and lowered her clipboard to her side. “Perhaps your friend Gabriel got confused.”

  Charlie felt like an idiot. “Yeah. Maybe. I’ll go ask. Thanks, Jen.”

  He spun on his heels and practically sprinted back to the dressing room. When he walked inside everyone began laughing. He stood, bewildered, in the centre of the room. Did they hear him apologize?

  “How was your talk with Jen?” Simon managed, as he gasped for air.

  Charlie hung his head. He’d totally fallen for the prank. Gabriel was laughing so hard he was lying on the bench, and soon Charlie was laughing harder than anyone, and he gave Gabriel a high-five. He noticed Jake, Zane and Markus in the other corner didn’t join in.

  “That was harsh,” Charlie said. “I sounded like the lamest dude in the world. She thought I’d lost my brain.” He sat back down. “Were you in on that?” he said to Slogger.

  “Not really — other than the fact that it was his idea,” Gabriel said.

  “You know this means war,” Charlie said.

  Trevor came in. “Hustle up, boys. Ice is ready and this should be a lot of fun. We’ll warm up a bit, and then start the skills.”

  Charlie pulled on his equipment as fast as he could. Because of his talk with Jen he was last out — as usual, it felt like. He grabbed his stick, and was about to leave when the door opened and Richard came in. He had his helmet off, and he looked really nervous. A second later, two other players came in — Nathan,
and a kid he knew by name only, James. They all sort of shuffled their feet, and mostly looked at the floor. The butterflies in Charlie’s stomach went into overdrive. He couldn’t believe they’d try anything in the dressing room, with coaches around …”

  “Hi,” Richard said.

  “Hi,” Charlie replied warily. None of them said anything. “You guys looking for something?” Charlie asked.

  “Looking for …?” Richard said, as if the question surprised him. “No. I’m not looking … I mean … we aren’t … Actually, we kinda wanted to talk to you.”

  Charlie’s mind raced. He didn’t know if these three guys were friends. James and Nathan were on Team 2, so maybe they were buds. Richard was on Team 1, though. Besides, he’d given Richard a wide berth since he blew him off at the obstacle course, not to mention the capture-the-flag game.

  “Talk about … what?” Charlie said, still feeling uneasy.

  The three boys looked at each other and then back at Charlie. James flexed his stick. Nathan bounced his on the rubber flooring.

  “We all feel bad about what happened at the capture-the-flag game,” Richard said.

  “We were jerks,” James said.

  “And we never thought Zane was gonna do … what he did,” Nathan said.

  “Zane said we were gonna just fool around and scare you,” Richard said.

  It dawned on Charlie that these were the three guys who dragged him to the ridge and swung him by the arms and legs with Zane. But they had let him go, and Zane had been the one to actually throw him over.

  “I couldn’t believe what Zane did. I mean — that was a whole lotta wrong.” Richard lowered his gaze. “I just wanted to … like … apologize for that. We shouldn’t have gone along with Zane, and stuff like that ain’t what I’m about. It was … well … I wanted to apologize; and also to say thanks for not telling Jen or the coaches … and stuff.”

  “Me too,” Nathan said.

  “And me,” James echoed.

  They all looked up at him at the same time. Talk about awkward — four guys staring at each other.

  “It’s cool,” Charlie said finally. “It was Zane, not you guys. I know you were just fooling around.” He grinned. “Besides, if he hadn’t tossed me over I never would’ve had the chance to climb up the hill and capture your flag.”

  The tension in the room seemed to instantly disappear. Suddenly, they were four guys at a hockey camp, joking around.

  “I loved how you decked Zane on the field,” James said.

  “He deserved worse than that,” Nathan said.

  “It was a nice sight seeing him eat some dirt. A lot of guys are giving you major props for doing it. That psycho thinks he owns the camp,” Richard said.

  A question popped into Charlie’s head, and out it came. “Did any of you guys hear anything about the rope at the obstacle course? Not sure if you remember but my rope had been thrown over the wall and Jake and I … I think maybe Nathan had gone before, or something, and I was wondering …”

  The other two boys looked at Nathan.

  “I don’t remember the rope not being there, if that’s what you mean,” Nathan said. “I was definitely behind J.C.; he might’ve been over the wall when I was climbing over it. I just don’t remember much else.”

  “I haven’t heard anything about it,” Richard said.

  “Me neither,” James concurred.

  The door opened and Trevor came in. He sighed and held his arms up.

  “Any of you guys interested in playing hockey?”

  “We were just going over our strategy for the skills competition,” Charlie said.

  “Why don’t you do that on the ice,” Trevor said.

  “Sounds like a plan,” Richard replied.

  “Good luck, guys,” Charlie said to Nathan and James as they headed to Team 2’s rink.

  They both ran back a few steps and held out their gloves. Charlie gave each glove a punch and they took off again. He walked slowly up the corridor to the ice, thinking about their apology. It was unexpected, and it was big of them. Maybe they sort of owed it to him because he’d kept it quiet, but he knew how hard it was for guys to say sorry sometimes — and Zane had been the only one who did anything really wrong. Nathan’s answer to his question was unsettling, however. He’d been so sure Nathan had tossed his rope over the wall, and now he was pretty sure Nathan was telling the truth. He seemed like a good guy. The rope was the one mystery he thought he’d figured out. Now he was back at square one.

  Absorbed in these thoughts, he was startled when a loud voice called out, “C-man, heads up!”

  Slogger fired a puck to him. Charlie laughed at himself for being so preoccupied and took a few steps to gain control, stickhandled a bit and then slid it back to Slogger. He skated in on goal, and from ten feet out faked a backhand and dropped it between his legs. Charlie followed up and one-timed it into the top left corner.

  “Goal!” Charlie declared.

  “Assist!” Slogger yelled.

  They slapped each other’s shin pads. Before they had a chance for another rush, Trevor blew his whistle to start the skills competition.

  16

  ROUGH PATCH

  Charlie tied his skate laces together and tossed them over his shoulder. He forced himself not to get too stoked about the skills competition finals. He’d made two events: stickhandling and skating. The race had been total mayhem, with him, Savard, Gabriel, Jake and Tan all within two metres of each other at the finish. Their race had been so fast that all of them had made the final except Tan. Now he had to go to the other rink to face the winners of the other teams. Slogger had come second in the hardest shot, behind Burnett, and was waiting for him at the door.

  “Come on, superstar. It’s starting in, like, ten minutes,” Slogger said.

  Charlie zipped his bag up, grabbed his stick and walked to the door. “Slogger, you’re always holding me up,” he said.

  Slogger grunted in reply and followed him down the hall.

  Trevor happened to be at the front doors and held it open for them. “I understand I’m holding this for two finalists,” he said.

  Charlie blushed, but Slogger wasn’t too embarrassed to speak.

  “Charlie’s in two, although he shoots like a wuss so I had to step in there.”

  Trevor laughed. “Remember that Gretzky didn’t have the most powerful shot and he managed to score a few.”

  “Not sure that’s good advice for the hardest shot competition, Trevor,” Slogger said.

  “I guess you’re right. Pound the rubber, Slogger.”

  “Will do.”

  They made their way to the other rink in no time and headed to the dressing rooms.

  “We’re in room 2 or 3,” Charlie said. “Any preference?”

  “I’ve always liked even numbers,” Slogger said.

  Charlie pushed the door opened and instantly wished he’d opted for the other room. Jake and Zane were there, Jake for skating and Zane for shooting. Savard and Gabriel were to his right and he chose to sit next to them, but the second he sat down they both got up.

  “Is it something I said?” Charlie joked.

  “Not this time,” Gabriel quipped. “The ice is ready. What took you so long?”

  “I had to wait for Slogger,” Charlie said.

  Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “Do you expect me to believe that?”

  “I might have been a bit slow getting my skates off,” Charlie said guiltily.

  From across the room, Jake called out, “Good luck out there, boys. Should be fun.”

  Charlie wasn’t sure who Jake was talking too. It couldn’t be him.

  “Stickhandling is yours all the way, J.C.,” Jake said.

  Savard seemed uncertain what to say. “We’ll see. Lots of competition.”

  “Good luck in the race,” Jake continued, in a friendly tone.

  Savard nodded.

  “I’ll try to get a second then,” Jake said.

  “Yeah. Sure. Good luc
k.”

  He opened the door for Gabriel and followed him out.

  Jake leaned back against the wall, eyes half-closed, his lips closed tightly together. “And of course good luck to my good friend Charlie Joyce. Two finals! My, my, well done. I’m so proud of you.”

  Charlie started to tighten his skates.

  “And a hearty good luck to you too, Slogger — the boy with the nifty nickname. Hey, Joyce, I hear your good buddies, Scotter and Nicholas, also made the finals — for Team 3, but still …” He shrugged.

  Jake and Zane got up. “Delightful chatting with you both, as usual,” Jake said. Zane smirked and followed Jake out the door.

  As soon as it closed, Slogger said, “I don’t know how you put up with him. I’d lose my temper so quick … I’d probably have been kicked out of camp by day two.”

  Charlie finished tying up his skates. “I don’t understand Jake,” he said. “He’s the classic bully, but he doesn’t get anything out of it. He actually can be funny — you saw him — and at school he’s sort of popular. Only he always seems to make sure most people don’t like him, even when he has a chance to make friends — even with the girls at school. I just figure it’s better to ignore him as much as I can. I can’t compete with him on the jerk front.”

  “He’s the best jerk around,” Slogger agreed, standing up. “You ready to rumble?”

  “Why not?”

  He and Slogger had barely left the room when Charlie spotted Corey running down the hallway. He slowed to a walk and grinned awkwardly.

  “I think there are lots of seats, Corey,” Charlie joked. “No need to hurry. The arena seats something like five thousand people.”

  “I know. I’m going now, to watch I mean.” His face was very pale, and he looked uncomfortable.

  “How’d the skills go?” Charlie asked, and instantly wished he could take it back. Corey was in street clothes, which meant he hadn’t qualified for any finals.